


Savior

by readersanonymous (fanficprince)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternative Universe - The Purge, Explicit Language, F/M, GTA!AU, Handcuffs, Los Santos, Mild Blood, Purge!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 13:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7465197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanficprince/pseuds/readersanonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doors locked. Lights out. Weapons hot. The annual purge starts in 10 minutes. And you're stuck outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OMG W00T A COMPLETED FIC??? This is all so new to me :O I can't believe I actually finished a fic for once LOL 
> 
> Yes, this is a GTA & a Purge AU. I watched the Purge this weekend and could not get it out of my head so I had to write about it and well, here ya go! <3

“Please!” You ram your fist again your front door again. “Please let me in.”

The metal frame sent a strong pain through your hand when you hit it but you could barely feel it with the feeling of your heart collapsing inside your chest. She won't open the door.

You can hear your roommate laughing cynically, “do you really think I was going to let you in? After you didn't pay the rent this month?”

“I paid the rent!” You slam your hand against the door again, making a loud bang. You shake your aching hand and yell, “Bitch!”

You had worked your ass off to pay that ridiculous rent because “the purge was cutting close and insurance was at an all time high”. Fucking bullshit, but you didn't fight it. Your landlord would take your head if you did. Though, he probably already wants your head since your rent never made it to his office. You remembered mailing that check well before the deadline and it was cashed. But you don't know by who. Your roommate’s irritating voice cuts off your train of thought.

“I suppose since you’re dead meat anyways, I might as well admit the truth,” you couldn't see your roommate but you knew she had that disgustingly diabolical smile on her face. “You did pay the rent, but it never got to our landlord because I stole it. I used that money to hire the people who are going to be killing you tonight.”

The sick giggle she gives you makes you want to reach through the metal barricades that YOU helped pay for and rip her throat out. 

You bang on the door again, “don't do this! Please, we can work something out.”

“Work something out? Now why would I do that?” God, you really hated her. You weren't living with her because you wanted to. You had accepted an ad for a roommate who claimed they were living in a “very safe” house. You needed a place to stay, especially since last year’s purge had thrown your old home into shambles. It was only supposed to be temporary, to live out the next six months until the purge was over. Who knew this bitch would be a rival intern at the hospital you were at and would be the one screwing you over. 

“You don't have to kill me,” you say as politely as you can into the door. “There's a better way to get what you want.”

“You know,” she says, “you're my only competition at the hospital. There's only one position open for hire.”

“You can get the position on your own! You don't have to murder for it!” You frantically look around. She had hired mercenaries after you. They were bound to come soon. 

“That's where you’re wrong,” she says. “We both know you’re the better candidate, with your stupid smile and your perfect record. But with you out of the picture, it has to go to me. So you're dead meat, bitch. Isn't it great that you paid for your own death?” 

Before you could slam your fist against the metal once again, the announcement played.

_ This is not a test. _

_ This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual Purge.  _

_ At the siren, all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 hours.  _

_ All emergency services will be suspended.  _

_ Your government thanks you for your participation.  _

When the siren rang, you stumbled back. You look at your watch. 7PM. You look around. Empty street. You were on your own. 

And there were people coming to kill you. 


	2. Chapter 2

You’re stuck. You don't know what to do. You stand there, dazed. Was she telling the truth? Were there really people after you? You frantically scan the street. So far, you see no one. 

You pull off your bag and open it, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and a surgical mask to cover your nose and mouth. You grab your baseball cap out as well, securing it onto your head. With a switchblade in hand, which you always carried because the last purge taught you to stay prepared, you throw your backpack back over your shoulder. You needed a gun or at least a better weapon or else you weren't going to make it through the night. 

Your sunglasses made it harder to see at night but it made you look like you were taking part of the Purge. The unwritten rules of the Purge go as followed: those who purge are less likely to be those who should be purged. So in order to avoid purging, you must pretend to be purging. Hiding in plain sight. 

The Purge made you sick to your stomach. The reason other purgers don't kill each other is because they're mostly middle to upper class. They just wanted to kill those without defenses, the poor. It was like a sport to them. 

“Purge and purify,” You say as you walk past a group who openly hands you a gun and a machete. 

The man who gave you the weapons nods, his face covered by his mask, “purge and purify.”

Let's just say, Los Santos was an odd place. You hadn't lived here long, but you knew. The Purge was a night these people cherished because they could legally unleashed all the hell they wanted. And the law barely stopped them before, now without the law, they're reckless. 

The only thing you feared for, were the people who had something or someone to live for. You wanted to become a doctor, to head your own staff and to save lives. Not just the lives of people on a daily basis, but during the Purge as well. All emergency services, including medical, were suspended on Purge night. That meant people who could survive, don't. You couldn't live with yourself knowing that so you drove yourself through medical school so that you could help. But now you're here, in the middle of a clothing store that you broke into, trying to swap into more Purge appropriate clothing. 

You opted for good running shoes, joggers, a shirt and a thick coat. Everyone wears big jackets on Purge night. You grab as much first aid stuff as you can find in the store and stuff your bag with it. Whoever was out to kill you hasn't found you yet. You glance at your watch, 8PM. 

Eleven more hours to go.

 


	3. Chapter 3

You load your gun and keep it in your hand, which is tucked away in your jacket pocket. You enter back into the streets and listen. You have never heard Los Santos so alive with crime before. Banks were being looted. People were being slaughtered in the middle of the street. A world on fire. 

You hid in the crowds. They moved as a unit, covered in blood. You managed to get some on yourself by squeezing through the crowds so you blended right in. As long as you followed the chants, you were one of them. 

The anxiety building in your chest was killing you. Why haven't those mercenaries found you yet? Was it a lie? With the money she stole from you, she could easily get professional, high-grade mercenaries. Now the question was, where were they?

You glance around again, trying not to making yourself look too suspicious. Nothing. No one was eying you, no one was questioning you. At least, you didn't think anyone was. 

A loaded gun. A hard grip. A pull out of the crowd. A strange feeling warp over you as the crowd you were in turned the corner and you had somehow made it to the outside of the crowd as if it was planned. Then, when a set of hands popped out from the driveway and began to pull you in, you knew. They had been waiting for you all along. 

In your struggles, you caught a glimpse at your watch. 8:30PM. They still have more than 10 hours to do whatever they wanted with you. With all crime being legal, that wasn't something you were looking forward to. 

You couldn't get out of their grasp. There was too many of them. Five, six, seven. Seven men. You tried to fight but their grip on your was too strong. Soon, there was a black blindfold covering your eyes, zip ties locking your wrists together, and a gag in your mouth to stop you from screaming so much. 

“She's a fighter,” one of the men said, pulling the gun out from your pocket. You struggle against them, not letting them take you wherever they were going to, “I’m surprised with all that talk her roommate gave about her innocence.”

“She thought she could hide from us in that disguise,” another voice says, mocking you. “I could spot her from a mile away.”

“Yeah what a ridiculous-” gun shot. Sweat beads down your face as you hear a multitude of gunshots firing. The hands that once gripped you dropped you to the floor. Something wet hit your face. It wasn't just a hit. It was like a shallow river of something, running past your cheek. It smelt like blood. It probably was blood. When the gunshot ceased, you could feel a pair of arms lift you up and into a car seat. 

A needle makes its way into your neck and before you know it, you were out cold. 


	4. Chapter 4

When you wake up, you aren't blindfolded anymore. You look at the clock on the wall. 10:30. You have been out for roughly 2 hours now. Wait, where was your watch? You tug on your wrist and the handcuff holding you to a pipe in the wall tugs you back. 

_ Shit. _

Both of your wrists are cuffed to a pipe and you don't have your watch anymore. You're still in your blood soaked clothing so you can at least be grateful they haven't touched you in your sleep. You shiver at the thought of that, making you tug on your handcuffs a little harder. The metal digs slightly into your skin. You can feel a light cut and some bruising but nothing too major. 

Why were you chained to a wall? Where were you? The room you were in looked like some warehouse in the middle of nowhere. With crime being legal, there was no point in bringing you to a warehouse. Why not just publicly murder you? Wasn't that the point of the Purge anyways? You scan the room but find zero clues. 

Then, the lights turned on.

They weren't bright, nor were there many of them, but the room was more lit than it was previously. A man steps into the light. He looks familiar. That mask. You recognize him. There wasn't a gag around your mouth anymore. You could speak. 

“I remember you,” you say to him. You lean towards him, forgetting that the cuffs would inevitably pull you back, “you gave me a gun earlier.”

“Purge and purify,” he says, pulling up a chair to sit in front of you. “Or whatever bullshit slogan they're using this year.”

His voice is difficult to hear through the mask, but there must be a reason he kept it on. Why are you here with him? Was he the one who saved you? 

“Why did you help me?” It was weird, talking to someone without being able to see their eyes. What was he thinking? 

“Because I heard you,” his voice is sincere. “Your voice echoed through the street. I heard you cry to your roommate who had wrongfully locked you out of your shared home.”

“You helped me because you heard me?” You sigh, “I must have been a real damsel in distress.”

“On the contrary, I think you were holding yourself very well,” the man walks over to the side and tosses a bag in front of you. It was your bag, “you were incredibly prepared. But you would’ve never seen those mercenaries coming, they're top tier.”

“If they were top tier, how did you manage to take them down? There were at least 7 of them!” You say to him, a little skeptical. What if he was working with them? This could all be a ruse to make you let down your guard. 

“I said they were top tier, but I never said I wasn't better,” you couldn't see his smirk, but it was there. Hiding behind that skull mask. 

“You know they’ll come after me,” you can't shake the nervousness. “Even if you managed to take down a few goons, my roommate paid a lot of money to have me dead, I would know.”

“Well that's why you're here,” the man points to the surrounding warehouse. “They’ll never find you here.”

“What makes you so sure?” You look back at the clock. 11PM. Still eight hours to go. 

“Because we aren't in Los Santos anymore,” the man stands in front of you. 

You try to point, but you forget again and tug on your cuff, hard. This man, there was, there was three bullet holes. Two in his chest, one in his left arm. How was he still alive?

“You’ve been shot,” your eyes widen. “How are you-”

“I'm surviving,” he says, unlocking your cuffs, “but it would be nice if you helped me a little.”

When you're free, you quickly grab your bag and pour the contents out. 

“Have you done anything to them?” You touch his shirt, which makes you realize he’s wearing a vest. “Thank god, if you didn't have this vest, you’d be dead for sure.”

“Still hurts like hell,” you turn him so you can examine his arm. The bleeding has stopped but the bullet was still in there. 

“Do you feel woozy at all?” You help him out of his shirt and his vest so you can look at his chest. The bullets from his chest were lodged in the vest. He didn't look like he had too much bruising, so he must have just bruised his ribs. “You're lucky you didn't break any ribs.”

“They weren't close range bullets, I knew I’d be fine,” he coughs slightly, making you worry. “I don't feel woozy, I'm fine.”

“Okay then, tough guy,” you grab the extracting tool. “This is going to hurt, but the pain will subside after that. Here, bite on this.”

You pass him his shirt and he lifts his mask slightly to put the shirt in his mouth. You can't catch any glimpses of his face. You don't know why you were curious in the first place. 

“Here goes,” you quickly jab the extracting tool into his wound, effectively making him scream. But you get the tool far enough that you could feel the bullet. You maneuver it carefully and grab the bullet, pulling it out of him in one swift motion. You then seal the wound with stitches and clean it up. “Now that wasn't so bad.”

He pulls the shirt from his mouth and throws it on the floor. There was little traces of blood on it. He must've been in a lot of pain. You didn't know much about this man, but you knew one thing for certain, he was strong. 

You let out a sigh of relief, “I'm glad to see you're human.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” He shoots back at you.

“Well, if you could manage to get a bullet extracted from your body and not bite down on something with full force, I would think you're some kind of god,” you laugh. “But then again, gods don't get shot by mercenaries.”

“Who says they don't?” 

“I do,” you point to yourself. “Also, a god wouldn't help someone like me.”

“Why’s that?” The man looks at his stitched up wound, nodding as if he approves of your work.

You lean back against the wall and wipe your sweaty forehead, “because they never have, why change now?”

The man leans up against the wall, sitting next to you, “maybe they saw something in you that they wanted to protect.”

You turn to face this masked man, “are you talking about yourself?”

“What if I am?” He looks back at you. For the first time, you can see his eyes. They were sharp and blue and for a second you almost forgot what kind of situation you were in. 

“Then, tell me, masked man, why did you protect me?” The words just roll off your lips in a way you knew made this man debate whether he was the mystery, or you were. 

His hand reached out towards you and brushed a piece of your hair away from your face, “I don't think you’d want to hear.”

You hook your hair behind your ear and look him straight in the eyes, “try me.”


	5. Chapter 5

“You tried to survive,” the masked man pulls his vest back on and his shirt. “Even when all odds were against you, you tried. You didn’t lose hope.”

You let out a soft breath and smile, “Yeah, I guess I didn’t. My life has been pretty shitty, but I knew I had to keep living.”

“Why?” He turns to you. “You must have a reason.”

You look up at the ceiling and laugh, “I have this-this idea. That someday, I can be a doctor who can help people during the Purge. An underground sort of thing, to help people who could be helped. I guess that dream was worth living for.”

“I’m glad,” you can’t see it, but you can feel him smile. “I saved a pretty good person.”

“Now look who has a heart under that skull mask,” you nudge him slightly. “Thanks again, for helping me.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” the masked man gets up and gestures for you to follow. He turns off the lights in the warehouse and leads you to an upstairs office space. There, he turns on a faint lantern and pulls out a duffel bag. He reaches into the bag and grabs three containers.

“What’s this?” You say as he heads you two of the containers. You listen to the way one of them squishes back and forth, “Soup?”

“It’s water, actually,” his laugh is hearty and you flush a little at how embarrassing that question you just asked was. “Didn’t think a water bottle would be enough for the both of us, so a soup canister will have to suffice. The other container is food.”

He points to the rectangular container in your hand and you pop it open. You didn’t realize it, but you were starving. You hadn’t eaten all day with the sudden flow of people faking injuries to try and hide out in the hospital. The food was really good, though maybe you were just hungry. The masked man seemed famished too, but then again, he did get shot three times. He ate turned away from you, still hiding his face.

“So what do I call you?” You say, mid-bite. “In my head, you’re just “the masked man” but I’m assuming you got a name.”

He didn’t answer you for a bit, until he turned back to you, the mask fully on again, “just call me...Vagabond.”

“Vagabond? Someone who wanders?” Remember, you’re a training doctor, you know a lot of peculiar vocabulary.

“Sounds a bit like me,” he looks away from you for a split second. “Or well, someone I want to be.”

You take another bite of your food, “what’s that supposed to mean? You’re stuck in one place right now?”

“Yep,” he shoots you a thumbs up. “Stuck and I can’t seem to find a way out.”

“Is that why you wear the mask?” You ask, putting down your food and crossing your legs like it’s storytime in preschool.

“I suppose so,” he touches his mask. “It conceals my true identity, the one I’m stuck living.”

“Would you rather be a vagabond?”

You can hear him about to answer but then a loud BANG noise cuts his voice off. He practically lunges in front of you, looking around frantically. You peek over his shoulder as he leans up to look over the edge of the window. There was light glowing from downstairs, in the warehouse.

“Where are you, my pretty little princess,” a voice says. “My boys and I were paid very good money to get rid of you and the time we have to play with you is slowly dwindling down. And I don’t like to be rushed.”

You catch yourself before you let out a scared gasp. Vagabond turns around and points to the back corner of the office. You listen and make your way over there. He turns off the faint lantern and the room is dark again. You can hear the footsteps of a lot of men downstairs. You can see a faint light coming from Vagabond’s chest.

You quickly grab his shirt and lift it up, looking at the faint glow in one of the bullet holes. You pull out the extractor tool you kept in your pocket and pull the bullet out from his vest. It was glowing. Why was it-

Vagabond curses under his breath and tosses the bullet into the trashcan by the door, “it’s a tracker. They must’ve known I was going to be with you.”

You whisper worriedly, “What are we going to do? I knew they’d find me-”

“We’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Vagabond pushes the carpet aside, revealing a hidden door. He quickly pulls the key out from his pocket and unlocks the door, which leads to a ladder. He helps you in and motions for you to stay quiet. You nod and quickly climb down the ladder, with him following you after he locks the door from the inside.

“I’m going to find you and your little masked pal and kill you both!” The voice screams loud enough for you to hear it while climbing down the ladder.

The room you both pop into has a car and what you guess is a secret exit. Vagabond unlocks the car and you get it. Once he’s in, he starts the car and you both are off to wherever he plans on taking you.

You trusted him.


	6. Chapter 6

You both drive for a while until you reach a residential street with a lot of big houses. Not just “big”, you can see that they’re mansions. Was he breaking into somewhere? Vagabond pulls up to the driveway of one of the mansions and tells you that you were here. Here? Where the hell was here?

He gets out of the car and opens the door for you. You had almost forgot it was the night of the Purge because the street was so quiet. There wasn’t any crimes going on. No screaming, no menacing laughter, just quiet. Vagabond puts his arm around your waist and practically drags you up to the front door of this giant mansion. You were incredibly hesitant but he was stronger than you so you didn’t fight back and just walked.

He knocks on the door and a strange, angry voice answers, “who the fuck is it at this hour? I was trying to sleep!”

Sleep?? On the night of the Purge? What the hell was this place? Did you somehow leave the country? You were completely stumped, just staring at Vagabond, hoping to find answers.

“Remember that favor you owe me? Well I’m here to redeem it,” with that, the door opens.

A woman answers the door, “well I’ll be damned. It’s my good friend-”

“Don’t, Lindsey,” he cuts her off and points at the mask. 

“Oh, OH!” Lindsey stops herself and then catches a look at you, “now now,  _ Vagabond _ , I said I’d give you a favor, but I ain’t letting you use my house for a-”

He cuts her off again, “it’s not like that. I need you to keep her safe while me and the boys take care of something.”

“To think you’d be using your favor to protect some girl,” Lindsey smiles, looking happily at you, “you must be real special.”

You throw your hands on your cheeks to hide your embarrassing blush. At a closer glance, you realize who she is. She’s Lindsey Tuggey, personal assistant to the mayor of Los Santos. That’s why Vagabond brought you here, to this neighborhood. It was where all the level 10 and up government personnel lived and they had special immunity to the Purge.

“Can you keep her safe?” Vagabond asks Lindsey again.

“Of course, anything for a friend,” Lindsey nods. 

“Thanks,” Vagabond quickly says to her then turns to you, “she’s going to protect you with her immunity. No one can touch you now. I didn’t think I’d have to resort to this, but it’s the only way you’ll be safe as long as those men are after you.”

“Where are you going?” You ask. “What business are you going to take care of?”

“Those men, obviously, and a few other things,” He brushes the hair away from your face again, his blue eyes shining through his mask. He was looking at you, with worried eyes. Even though you were the one who should be worried.

“You shouldn’t go after them, you don’t have to go after them.”

“I do,” he says. “They won’t leave you alone until they’re disposed of. You may think it ends with the Purge, but it won’t. They can kill you any other day, it’s just today is the easiest. You’ll only be safe once they’re all dead.”

“Are you talking about that one mercenary gang you and the boys have been butting heads with?” Lindsey jumps in. “Are they after her?”

“They are,” he responds.

Lindsey laughs and crosses her arms, “You guys officially have a reason to kick their asses now.”

You look at her, puzzled, “what do you mean?”

Lindsey explains, “your friend here, Vagabond, is in a gang of mercenaries. A few months ago, a new gang of mercenaries came into Los Santos. At first they were peaceful, but they were messy. Gave the mercs in Los Santos a bad rep. But you can’t fight a gang without a valid reason, or shit will hit the fan quick and an all out turf war will explode.”

“So I’m a valid reason for a battle between gangs?” You look up at Vagabond. “Was I just a pawn in your game? Did you protect me just so you could fight these guys?”

“No, no, of course not,” he says. “I didn’t know which mercs were after you when I decided to give you that gun. But I was approached by them soon after and they told me to back off because you were their kill. I told them that you were on my side and that they were dead if they touched you. They called my bluff and now more than half of them are dead.”

“They still came after me even though you told them not to?”

“They didn’t think you were actually on my side, which in reality was the truth at the time. But once I gave you that gun, you were mine to protect and now I’m going to finish the job.”

“You need guns?” Lindsey asks.

“That would be great, actually,” he says and Lindsey disappears into the mansion.

Vagabond looks back at you. There were so many thoughts running through your head. You were the reason there was going to be a turf war on the night of the Purge. One side, fighting to protect you, and the other side, paid to kill you. Your life was such a mess.

“Hey,” Vagabond moves for you to face him, “it’s going to be alright. My gang is stronger, trust me.”

“I know, I know, but…”

“But you can’t help but worry because you’re the reason we’re all fighting,” he pulls you in close to him. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got a good doctor in case something happens. I can count on you, right?”

You nod into his warm chest, wrapping your arms around him, “yeah.”

It was so comforting, being close to him. He was really trying his hardest to keep you safe. It was a strange feeling, being protected by someone. 

He lifts your face up to look at him, “you’ll be safe and I’ll be fine.”

“Will I ever see you again?” You ask, sincerely wondering. 

“Maybe,” his eyes were soft so you knew he meant it. 

You reach your hand up to touch his mask. Will you ever see the face behind this mask? You lean up to kiss it gently. 

“Thank you for protecting me, Vagabond,” you say as you let go of him. 

“Like I said, the pleasure’s all mine, Y/N,” and at that, he walks away.

You don’t grab him in time but you manage to say, “how do you know my name?”

When he opens the car door, he looks back at you and says, “I just do.” 

“Hey! Don’t forget your shit!” Lindsey tosses him a heavy duffel bag and he climbs into his car.

As the car drives away, Lindsey escorts you into her house. 


	7. Chapter 7

You spend the remaining hours of the Purge watching movies with Lindsey, who can’t fall back asleep. When the siren announces the end of the annual Purge, you let out a heavy sigh. You wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep… 

_ Shit. _

You bury your hands in your face and groan. 

“What’s wrong?” Lindsey says, patting your back. “You made it through the night, you should be celebrating!”

“I know, and thank you so much for letting me stay here,” you look up to smile at Lindsey then quickly rest your hands on your knees, “I just forgot that I don’t really have a home to go back to.”   
“Oh, your crazy roommate right?” You and Lindsey had discussed a few things during your movie marathon and your crazy “I hired people to kill you” roommate was one of the topics. “You never know, maybe she’s dead.”

“I doubt it. We had pretty good insurance,” you let out another sigh. 

“Insurance isn’t going to help you if someone wants you dead,” Lindsey grabs her phone to check something, “Trust me, I’d know.”

“Do you know what happened with Vagabond?” You ask, still extremely worried. He hasn’t contacted Lindsey and he didn’t have your number and well-

Your phone rings and you pick up, “Hello?”

“Is this Y/N? Sorry to call you so early in the morning, especially right after the Purge,” it was your landlord. 

“Oh no, it’s totally fine! I’ve been meaning to call about my rent-”

“We’ll discuss that later, for now, I’d like you to meet me back at the house you were renting, I’ve got more important matters to talk about,” he says. “I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

“Of course! I’ll be right there!” You reply back.

“It’s good to hear you’re alright. The Purge can be a nasty night if you’re outside alone.”

“I’ll say,” you laugh. “Thank goodness I wasn’t alone.”

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

“See you soon, Mr. Haywood!” You hang up the phone and look over at Lindsey, who looks at you funny.

“Mr. Haywood?” Lindsey asks, a little confused sounding.

“Yeah, he’s my landlord. Real angry guy to other people but he’s a pretty calm guy around me. He probably wants to discuss why my rent didn’t go through.”

“The rent your roommate stole from you?”

“Yeah,” you scratch the back of your head. “Do you know where I can find a cab?”

“Don’t worry, I have a driver,” Lindsey punches something into her phone. “He’ll be here to pick you up in a few minutes.”

“Thank you and did you hear from Vagabond?” You ask. “Is he alright?”

Lindsey smiles, “I think he’s just fine.”

“That’s good,” you smile. “That’s really good.”

“Well, it was wonderful meeting you and getting to watch movies with you. It was fun,” Lindsey hands you her phone, “put your number in there. Call me, if you ever want to hang out again.”

“I would love to,” you put your number into her phone. “Thanks for keeping me safe.”

The phone buzzed in your hand and you look at the message saying “I’m here” from someone titled “MJ”. 

“That must be your ride,” Lindsey walks with you to the door. “Come back anytime, and any Purge.”

“Will do,” you give Lindsey a quick hug before walking out to the black car waiting for you.

The drive was quiet and calm. The driver, this “MJ”, never spoke a word to you besides “see ya” in a Jersey accent when he dropped you off. You walk out to see Mr. Haywood waiting for you in front of your house.

“Good morning Mr. Haywood,” You ask as you walk up to him. 

“Good morning, Y/N. You’re rather happy this morning,” he says. 

“Oh, yeah,” you scratch the back of your neck, “let’s just say I’m happy to be alive.”

“Well, I can’t say the same for your roommate,” he looks up at the house. 

“Where is she, by the way?” You look around. “Is she in the house?”

“She’s dead,” he says, almost too nonchalantly. 

“But...but how? She was inside the house the last time I saw her,” you look at him strangely.

“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about,” he pulls out his phone and shows you a video. “I was sent this video during the Purge last night.”

It was a video of your roommate, tied up to a chair, admitting that she had stolen your rent. Right after she says that, Mr. Haywood covers the screen. You glance up at him and he puts his phone away.

“The next bit is her execution, and I’m assuming you wouldn’t want to see that,” he looks back at the house and sighs. “To think I put in all this security and still, somehow someone managed get in. It’s almost like they own the house, not me!” 

She’s...your roommate...she’s dead. Vagabond was alive, which meant those mercenaries were dead, which in turn, meant your roommate had to die too. You didn’t know why you felt so bad about it. Even though she paid for people to kill you, her death didn’t bring you any pleasure. You were feeling...just strange.

“Well, what are you going to do now?” Mr. Haywood voice cuts through your train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have a roommate anymore, are you planning on getting a new one or paying the full rent yourself?”

You flail your arms, “I couldn’t possibly pay that rent by myself. It was already over-budget as it was. And I can’t even imagine having a roommate after getting my money stolen and-well, yeah, I really don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“May I offer something?” He says, with a smile. “The second reason I asked you to come out here was that I actually have another opening for an apartment in my building.”

“Your building? Isn’t this your building?” You point to the house.

“Yes, it is, but I have another building, in the heart of Los Santos, where me and other high level officials live.” 

“Then I can’t possibly afford it!” You sigh, “the heart of the city? With officials? That already sounds extremely out of my price range.”

“You’ll be surprised,” Mr. Haywood says, “it’s actually under your budget.”

“How can that be?” You stare at him like he’s crazy. 

“There’s a little catch, actually,” he coughs lightly and fixes his necktie, “it’s an extension of my apartment. I had it custom built so that I could take another tenant, but since it is connected to my apartment by a door, I’m willing to cut down the price. Are you still interested?”

“Yes! Of course I’m interested,” you instinctively grab onto his arm. He pulls away from you and bites his lip hard. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright. I got a bruise on my arm, that’s all,” he says, brushing the dust off his sleeve. “Well then, the apartment is yours. I’ll be sending movers over to help you with your stuff today and you can move in today as well. I want to put this house back up on the market, with stronger security, ASAP.”

“But I can’t move in today,” you say, looking down at the floor. “I can’t even pay this month’s rent.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he smirks. “Let’s just say, your roommate’s lovely security deposit is paying your rent for the next three months.”

“Really?” Your eyes practically light up. Free housing for three months! 

“You’ll need to sign some papers when you move in. It’s a two year lease.”

“I’ll sign them in a heartbeat, Mr. Haywood,” you smile from the bottom of your heart.

“Ryan,” he smiles back. “Call me Ryan. We’re practically neighbors now.”

“Okay,” you look up at him, still smiling. “Thank you, Ryan.”

He brushes the hair away from your face and looks at you for a lot longer than you were used to but then pulls away and says, “the movers will be here soon. You should really change.”

You look down and smack yourself in the face lightly. You were still wearing your stolen, blood soaked clothing. Your cheeks boil up and you nod at Ryan. He laughs. Have you heard him laugh before? It sounded so familiar.

“See you soon, Y/N,” Ryan waves goodbye.

“See you soon, Ryan!” And with that, you open the door to this house for the last time.

You were ready to move into a place where you could feel safe. All the while wondering where Vagabond was and if he was looking out for you. He was like a guardian angel and it looks like your luck has really came full circle, thanks to him.

Will he appear again, when you need him too? 

You just hope one day, you’ll get a chance to see him again. But for right now, you need to shower and change and start packing. You were sure this was what Vagabond would’ve wanted for you. A safe apartment, under the roofs of high level officials. 

“Don’t worry, Vagabond,” you say, pulling on a new shirt after just showering. You glance out your window, almost in hopes that you might see him looking back at you, “I won’t waste the life you helped save. I’ll go out and do great things. See you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this little AU! I might make this into a series if people are interested <3 I love the whole idea of the reader not knowing that Vagabond is Ryan xD makes for one hell of a mess! 
> 
> If you want to see more of this Purge series, please tell me in the comments :) I'd be happy to write more!


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